


Happy Twenty-Eleven

by Wings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wings/pseuds/Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will celebrates the end of a crap year and the beginning of what they don't dare hope will be a better one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Twenty-Eleven

Castiel appeared just as Dean was opening his third bottle. The rustling of feathers was almost lost amongst the cheering and static coming from the old radio Sam had set up on the porch with them. At the flash of tan fabric though Dean looked up.

“Cas, I was hoping you'd show up!” he said, grinning.

“Dean,” Castiel started as he made his way through the ransom lawn chars strewn across the deck. “I believe I have found another of the weapons.”

Dean raised his eyebrows at that. “Dude, do you ever just stop by for the sake of stopping by?”

Castiel stepped forward, just verging Dean's idea of personal space. “Dean, we need to stop this before--.”

“Yeah, before so called 'paradise' spills over and we get to deal with your celestial bitch fight down here.” Dean took a swig of beer, using his other hand to wave aside the idea of war in heaven like it was nothing. “But the thing is, Cas, right now I don't care.”

Castiel froze. For a moment he eyed the dark bottle in Dean's hand suspiciously but Dean just shook his head, laughing at the look on the angel's face.

“What I mean,” he continued, “Is that I won't care for about another-- Sam, how much longer?”

In response, Sam stepped into view from around the side of the building and turned up the volume on the radio in time for them to hear the announcer start the thirty second countdown.

“Yeah, that long,” Dean finished and turned to swing an arm over Castiel's shoulders as he took another drink. Castiel didn't move away but his expression was more perplexed then anything as Sam came up the steps to grab a beer for himself.

“Sorry, Cas,” Sam said, offering Castiel a bottle as well, which was silently refused. “He couldn't wait to start drinking until the actual countdown started.”

“I figured as much,” Castiel answered, stumbling a little as Dean tried to kick at Sam's shins without removing his arm from Castiel's shoulders. “But I don't understand why the end of the year has been made into such a celebration. Isn't it just a marker--?”

Before either Sam or Dean could offer an answer though the first fireworks went off. For a moment they all froze, eyes wide, quiet for a few seconds before Sam and Dean realized what they were doing and started to cheer, their shouts mixing with the noise going up all over the town. Dean's voice was deafening in Castiel's ears but he couldn't help but smile at the pure joy in it. Above them the fireworks traced glowing sparks of fire against the clouds and it would have been reminiscent of the ongoing war above if there wasn't such an air of celebration behind the lights.

“Cas!”

At the sound of his name, Castiel looked down to see Dean offering him a beer.

“No thanks--,” he started but Dean ignored him and forced the bottle into his hands.

“Just take it, man, you know you're not exactly celibate when it comes to drinking.”

Castiel frowned but took a meagre sip of the drink despite himself.

“So,” Dean started, letting go of Castiel and turning to lean against the porch railing. “Resolutions anyone?”

“Dude, what's with you and traditions this year?” Sam said, stepping over to drop into one of the cleaner lawn chairs. “I mean, the alcohol I get, but you even made me go out and buy a turkey. And now you want to hear our new years resolutions?”

Dean shrugged. “It's nice to play normal once in a while, you know?”

“What is a new years resolutions?” Castiel asked causing both the brothers to look at him.

“Well, for us,” Dean started, “With our unhealthy habit of playing tag with the big, bad and ugly, it's kind of like a bucket list. Just without Morgan Freeman.”

Castiel blinked.

“It's your goals,” Sam explained, taking pity on the angel. “What you hope to achieve during the new year. Most people say something like they want to lose weight or fix their relationship; simple stuff. Yours... might not be so simple.”

“No, I have no complaint about my weight,” Castiel agreed and Dean grinned.

“I just want to get through the year with a little less 'end of the world' shit to deal with,” Sam offered, shrugging. “If that's not too much to ask,” he added uncertainly when he caught Castiel watching him.

Castiel blinked again. “No, that should be possible. Lucifer's still securely locked in the cage.” Sam sighed to hide a quick nervous chuckle.

Dean took another sip of his beer. “Yeah, a little less hellfire raining down on our asses would be nice.”

“That's not really a resolution though, it's more of a wish,” Sam pointed out. “What about you, Dean? Gonna cut back on the Busty Asian Beauties?” He smirked as he said it, knowing the answer full well without having to hear Dean say it.

“Bite me, Sammy.”

“What would your resolution be?” Castiel pressed, curious now.

Dean let out something between a laugh and a cough. “Uh, I don't know,” he said, shrugging. “Maybe to stop fucking with every good thing I find?”

He shot a glance at Castiel as he said it who chose that moment to take another taste of his beer. The cold liquid hit his throat sooner then he'd expected and he choked, coughing most of the gulp back into the bottle.

Sam and Dean didn't seem to notice. “You mean Ben and Lisa?” Sam asked.

Dean grimaced. “Yeah, them too.”

Good things do happen, Dean. Castiel wanted to remind him of what he had said so long ago but between the thickening atmosphere and the beer dripping down his chin, he didn't think it was the best time.

Wiping the drink off his face, Castiel opened his mouth to speak but Dean cut him off.

“Well, what the fuck,” he said, visibly forcing a grin back in place. “Happy twenty-eleven, right?”

Sam raised his eyebrows but voiced back his agreement all the same. Castiel realized Dean was waiting for his response and quickly remembered to smile as he looked at the hunter. “Yes, happy New Years.”

The last of the fireworks shot faded into the clouds and leaving faint sparks behind that made it seem like the stars were just a little more in reach then normal.


End file.
